Healing the Wounds (19 page)

“I’m entrusting our precious girl to you, my brave boy, because you bring her so much pleasure.” The faintest baritone rumbled as Henry murmured into Jay’s ear. “You see the flush of her skin, hmm? Feel the trembling in her thighs?”

His words might’ve been for Jay, but fuck if they didn’t make her moan.

“The pulse beneath your thumbs, faster now. Her nipples stiff and dragging over your chest.”

Their dance neared its end. She hung on the edge, waiting for the final chord, the sustained note of triumph.

“Her legs tightening around yours. The sweet grip as she rides your cock. Wondrous, my boy. Every moment a wonder. Would I allow any man that gift, the beauty of her climax?”

“No.” Jay mouthed the word, soundless. His hips snapped up hard.

Their bodies slammed together, his thumbs slick with proof of her pleasure as she ground herself against him.

“No,” Henry echoed. “Only my diligent boy, who’s learned his lessons so well. The only other I may trust to give our girl what she needs whenever she needs it. Like the good, hard fucking he’s giving her right now.”

She cried out as her climax hit. Maybe the note matched the music in her head. Maybe her body’s shaking resembled a dance. Maybe the weight low on her back was Henry’s hand pushing her tight against Jay, making sure she embraced each of his shallow, rapid thrusts as he joined her with a hitching whimper.

They collapsed in a heap, bodies trembling, Henry’s quiet humming a soothing relief from the pounding rhythm they’d shared.

“Love you.” Jay’s whisper could’ve been for either of them. Probably both.

She captured his mouth with a slow, easy kiss. Nudged his face toward Henry’s after and basked in joy as they shared the same. Shared a kiss with Henry herself, both of them trying not to laugh at Jay’s appreciative whistle. Or what would’ve been his appreciative whistle, if his mouth hadn’t been so dry.

She broke first, giggling. “What was that, the wind whistling in the canyon?”

He yawned. “Depends. Is the wind sleepy?”

“It most definitely is.” She kissed his forehead and wiggled her hips.

He held the condom while she lifted off. Settling at his side, she snuggled him between herself and Henry.

“Is the canyon a narrow slot in a flash flood?” God, his sleepy smirk about killed her.

She snorted. “Flood’s over. But it was a hell of a satisfying weather event.”

They traded gentle teases as Henry left and returned. Lounged with legs open as he bathed them with the tender touch to which she’d grown so accustomed. Welcomed him back to bed with kisses. Nestled close for a nap, calm and relaxed, the morning’s uncertainty washed away.

“This is the kind of shower we should have,” Jay called. “You could fit half-a-dozen people in here, no problem.”

Heading toward the bathroom, Alice laughed. Sure, the shower was big, but not
that
big. Although it did boast a bench along the marble wall and multiple showerheads at different levels.

Henry touched her shoulder. They hadn’t napped long. An hour at most. He’d sent Jay ahead to start the shower, presumably to have reason to praise him for completing the task later. “You haven’t any water-related phobias in your past I ought to know about, do you, my dear?”

Teasing equaled good, because it meant he wasn’t still angry about the omission on her contract answers. “No, Henry.”

“How are your swimming skills?”

“You wanna see my butterfly? It’s been a while, but—”

He breathed in sharply and spun her around, his hands firm atop her shoulders. Palms flattening against her back, he fingered the edge of her shoulder blades in a downward slide.

“Yes,” he rumbled. “I very much want to see you undulating through the water in sleek, smooth motion. To watch the curve of your shoulders as your arms stroke forward.”

Sliding his hands to her elbows, he lifted her arms above her head and rotated his hands to the inside of her arms. She was ready when the push came, sweeping her arms outward and down in the familiar movement.

“And the flex of your muscles as you force the water aside.”

Her arms hung at her sides, Henry’s hands circling her wrists. He growled, a quiet declaration, and nipped at her neck when he stepped in for a full-body press.

Her hips rocked. Her sex pulsed. Flaccid before he’d asked about swimming, Henry sure as hell wasn’t soft now.

Despite the months of sex—almost a year, God, that long?—she’d collected few insights about his arousal triggers. He liked to watch. And he’d hung that painting of Jay’s back where he’d pass it every night on his way to bed. He’d bent her over the table the first time he’d fucked her, she in a backless dress. He’d flogged her with tenderness, the suede caressing her like an extension of his hand.

“You’re in love with my back,” she whispered.

“I’m in love with all of you, my sweet girl. But your back is particularly lovely.” He prodded her with his hips. “Into the shower with you. Quickly now. You’ve inspired me to play another game.”

She hustled into the bathroom, equal parts curiosity and arousal.

“On the floor, Jay. Back to the wall.” Henry called out commands as he pushed her into the shower ahead of him. Water rained down from two sides in a pulsing spray, fogging the glass. “Legs spread. I’m bringing you a treat.”

She spread her legs, too, for balance, as Henry walked her right to the wall between Jay’s legs and pressed a firm hand to her back. She shivered, nipples hardening. “Tile’s cold.”

“The water’s hot. And so are your lovers.” Full-body contact. Henry laid his mouth at her neck and his cock at her ass.

Jay’s breath gusted between her legs. No penetration, not without Henry’s command, but her muscles clenched with the sure knowledge they’d be tugging Jay’s tongue or Henry’s cock soon.

Extending her arms above her head, Henry grasped her wrists in a single hand. He squeezed.

Her fingers flexed, hands splayed, and she shuddered at the controlled power in his hold.

“Knees up, Jay. Keep Alice’s legs together, please.”

Crowding her with his muscled thighs and calves, Jay added strong palms and gripping fingers below her hips. She stood with her toes tucked beneath his ass, thighs together, pressure and need making her squirm.

“Oh, no, my sweet girl, that won’t do at all.” Henry dropped a dangerous whisper in her ear. “You must stand very still for me, Alice. You’ve been cut from the herd, marked by a predator. You’ve nowhere to run.” He tightened his grip on her wrists. Water dripped from his face to her shoulder.

She opened her mouth, needing more air, deeper breaths, and wet heat coated her throat.

Henry’s touch flowed over her, a long caress from forearm down—shoulder, side, hip, ass—turning narrow and flat to slip between her thighs. An easy slide over wet skin, fingers first and then the heel of his hand, thicker and pressing upward. He flicked her clit.

Her need surged with no outlet. Jay kept her from moving. Henry pulled his hand away. She loosed a frustrated whine.

He nipped at her ear. “One might think this prey wants
to be taken. A desire my little minx can’t contain, hmm?” He shifted his hips back with a quiet grunt. “A sense of joy in helplessness and danger?” He prodded between her thighs. “The hunt made easier with a partner.”

Pulse at a gallop, she stood immobilized.

“Hold her tight for me, my boy, and you may use your tongue as you like.”

The pressure on her legs increased. Jay captured her sensitized clit in a rolling wave.

Her low moan bounced on the tile.

“Lovely,” Henry murmured. “I’m going to fuck your thighs now, my sweet girl, while Jay enjoys the taste of us both.”

Kid stuff, the negotiation of a boy whose girlfriend wouldn’t allow deeper access. But the illicit thrill tickled her, a sense of control despite the physical power he wielded with the weight of his body and his hold on her wrists.

He pushed forward, his cock a thick heat between her thighs. Bare. She clenched, ass and thighs and pussy pulling at her, a riot of need.

He unleashed a guttural groan.

She drowned in the satisfaction of his possession.

“I feel your desire, Alice. Your slickness, the heat and the wetness so different from the water beating at my back. Your skin, smooth and slippery, so tight and close.”

He rubbed his cock along the cleft of her ass. Squeezing between her thighs, he grazed the fullness of her labia. Jay finessed her clit with his tongue each time Henry pulled away. An external massage of pressure and promise, enjoyable on its own, supercharging the corresponding internal pressure and promise low in her belly.

She tried to rock with the motion. Henry brought his weight down heavier on her back, plastering her to the shower wall. He slid his free hand up her neck and parted her hair. Gripping the back of her head, he turned her cheek to the tile.

Jay dug his fingers into the outer curve of her ass.

Trapped. Henry could do anything he liked to her, or order Jay to, and she’d have to take it. A shiver born of fear and excitement, too entangled to separate, raced through her.

“You’re going to come for me, at once empty and fulfilled, Alice. Do you know why?” His thrusts grew shorter, faster, the ridge of his cock a mallet and her clit the drum pounding out their rhythm.

Suction sounds rose over the water spray. Jay’s talented mouth pulling at Henry’s cock. She struggled to form words, to answer the demand, but everything came out garbled.

Henry’s chuckle was as soft as his thrusts were forceful. “I know what you need. I know how to give it to you. However I choose to fuck you, I do so because you’re
mine
. And I love what’s mine.”

“Love. Fuck. Love.” Her body finished before her brain, short-circuiting thought. She shook hard. Strong men held her, supported her.

Growling, Henry used his grip to angle her face toward him. He kissed her, fierce and demanding, thrusting until his hands tightened and his body stilled.

Muffled by her body, Jay moaned. Filling up on calories before lunch and loving every mouthful.

Henry sank to the shower floor, cradling her with him, nuzzling her neck and examining her wrists. She wiggled her fingers without prompting, to his quiet hum of approval. He wrapped his right hand around hers and guided them both to Jay’s waiting cock.

“How quickly can you come for your lovers, my dear boy? Ten strokes? Nine? Faster?” Jay whimpered as Henry tightened their hold. “With the taste of my cock on your tongue and the scent of Alice’s heady musk in your nose?”

He hadn’t moved their hands yet, but already Jay shifted and squirmed in their grasp, his ass sliding on the tile, his cock jumping under their fingers.

“No, no—faster than that. A boy who’s done so well today, whose lips and tongue are so pleasing, surely he could come in eight strokes. Shall we say seven? I think you can come for me in seven strokes, Jay. No more, no less.”

“I can.” Dark, drenched hair gleamed as Jay nodded in unceasing, eager agreement. “I can, Henry. Seven.”

“You will.” Henry issued a clear demand, no give in his voice. He counted each stroke, moving her hand and his in unison, up and down Jay’s cock. One. Two.

And fuck if Jay didn’t come at the precise moment Henry’s sibilant
seven
reached her ears.

* * * *

Jay set plates, glasses, and napkins at three places and claimed the seat across from her.

Henry brushed aside their offers of more help with assurances that lunch preparations required no assistance.

Her stomach awaited the meal with eager anticipation. Her mind, helped along by the soft cotton of the robe Henry’d wrapped her in, drifted to their shower. She’d complimented Jay for being able to come so quickly on command, especially when he’d climaxed in bed with her an hour before. He’d chalked it up to Henry’s skill with anticipation. But she hadn’t asked Henry why.

Not why he’d kept Jay at their feet or brought him to orgasm in a controlled, commanding way. Submissive postures reassured Jay. Gave him the security he craved. After taking the lead in their blowjob game, Jay would’ve hungered for a strong reminder of Henry’s leadership.

No, what she hadn’t asked was why Henry hadn’t fucked her. Mmph. Not the right word. He’d obviously considered it fucking, and she hadn’t disliked the game. Hell, he’d gotten her off without penetration. Not a problem to complain about.

His forcefulness earned top marks. Mr. I’m-In-Charge Henry brought her to climax almost as quickly as he did Jay. He might’ve intended to reassure her, too, to gauge how threatened she felt by being overpowered. Building on her comfort from last Saturday when he’d taken her in the kitchen with little warning. Making preparations for taking them back to the club. Reinforcing their safety in his hands. Confirming their acceptance of his control.

Still, if that’s what he’d been doing, why hadn’t he just fucked her?

Henry stood assembling wraps at the counter from a row of open containers.

Fuck it. She’d ask.

“So why the non-sex sex?” Argh. Too blunt. Too loud, too. “Not that it wasn’t fantastic for me, ’cause you know it was, but, I mean, didn’t you want more?”

Jay surprised her, stretching across the table to clasp her hand. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you or that you aren’t worth more.” He spoke with the sweetly reassuring and utterly confident tone of a man who’d heard those words a hundred times. “It’s not about that. Henry loves us even without the sex. When we were—at the beginning, I mean, after I moved in with him, once he finally let things go past handjobs—it was the only way he’d take me, no matter how much I swore I wanted him to fuck me.”

Henry hadn’t said a word while Jay poured them out. Over the top of Jay’s head, Henry’s face showed tenderness. The curve of his lip, the crinkling at his eyes, and the gentle tilt to his head gave her a new perspective on the morning.

Aside from introducing a new kind of sex to her repertoire and building Jay’s confidence, maybe
Henry
craved the reminder of tenderness and caring. A meaningful way to give them the love he needed to express while being the powerful dominant they wanted. Memories he treasured, the first tentative steps toward making Jay safe and whole.